Adverse Alliance
by basium
Summary: Draco Malfoy is not having fun. When Potter suddenly has the ability to read Malfoy's mind, and vise versa, things get interesting. R and R would be nice.
1. And It Starts

Adverse Alliance - ChapterOne -AndItStarts

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"Bullshit."

The word spat through the man's vile lips, hitting me but leaving no mark. I stood firmly, not backing down in any way, ready for anything.

"Utter bullshit," my father said again, his blonde hair now plastered to his forehead with sweat. "You ungrateful, snide, manipulative bastard!"

It wasn't until I saw the light tint of a bruise forming did I realize his hand had struck me. I stumbled back, but still stood my ground.

"You are no son of mine, Draco. Get out."

Those were the last words my father spoke to me. I haven't seen him in a month, and though Mother tries to contact me I refuse to answer. After the fight I had nowhere to go; all my friends were in close contact with my father, whom I wanted to stay far away from. So grudgingly I went onto the streets. I had my fortune, I was rich, and I could stay where I wanted. But I ended up in the Leaky Cauldron, and took a room there.

I have been here for a month now. School begins in two days, and I have to make the trip into Diagon Alley, risking seeing my friends and enemies all for some stupid textbooks. That's where I am headed tomorrow.

I blew out the candle on the table beside my bed, listening to the noise of Muggle London outside my window. A passing train shook the room for several moments, then disappearing into the night and leaving my room quieter than before. Unwillingly, I closed my eyes and drifted off into a punctured sleep, awakened several times by whispers in the darkness only I could hear.

Morning came eventually and I stumbled out of bed, throwing on yesterday's clothes and giving a quick look in the mirror. My features were sunken in, my hair a tangled mess. But I didn't care about appearance anymore. I was homeless, and as much as I wanted to disbelieve, I was running out of money quickly.

I made my way out into Diagon Alley, pulling the hood of my sweater over my head and hiding my sunken face. I walked slowly and hunched over in fear of someone recognizing me; I didn't want to face my friends just yet. But as I turned the corner I spotted non other than Harry Potter and his friends, chatting and holding miscellaneous schoolbooks and supplies.

I ducked quickly into the nearest shop and peered out the window at the Gryffindors walking by.

"…That's weird, Harry. You sure you heard it?" Weaselby was saying.

"Clear as day. But I heard it in my head, not my ears. It's hard to explain," Potter replied.

"I wonder if he heard yours too, Harry," Granger said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. They had now stopped walking conveniently outside the shop I was in, but continued talking.

"I don't know… But they weren't happy thoughts I heard. They were full of pain, almost suffering," replied Potter.

The threesome continued talking, but I was unable to hear them when a scream erupted from the back of the shop, and a witch was waving her arms, her hair on fire.

"Well Harry," I heard Weasley say after the woman stopped screaming, "I wish I knew why this happened to you. But maybe you can use it to your advantage, mate – it's not every day you have a Slytherin in your head."

The trio walked away again. I slouched against the wall outside the shop, running their conversation over in my head. Had Potter said he was hearing someone's thoughts? And what did Weasley mean when he said Potter had a Slytherin in his head? Making a quick decision, I turned and ran in the direction the trio had left.

I stumbled down past Ollivanders and spotted them a few feet away, eating ice cream. Attempting to be quiet and casual, I made sure my hood was covering my face and I walked nonchalantly past them and sat down at a table next to theirs.

"So when did you first hear them?" Granger asked Potter.

"I was at the Dursleys. I was in my room, angry as hell because Vernon had made another bloody joke about the Aunt Marge incident to his company. I sat on my bed, with a throbbing headache, and suddenly I heard this voice… Like I said, I didn't hear it with my ears, but in my thoughts, in my head. I don't know what it said exactly, but it was angry too, someone had done something to it. To him," Potter sighed and put down his ice cream.

"But are you sure it was him? I mean, it could have been some other brooding wizard," Weasley asked.

"No, it was him, because the one of the few words I heard clearly was Lucius. Lucius had done something to him," The boy put his hands on his face and sighed. "But why me? Why am I stuck with Malfoy in my head?"

I almost choked. Potter could hear my thoughts. Harry Bloody Fucking Potter could hear my bloody thoughts, and I had no control over it. I was enraged. This had to be some kind of joke. It had to be.

"I just wish I bloody knew! I don't know why the hell I have him in my head, Ron!" Potter shouted, and then became very still.

"What is it, Harry?" Granger asked, concerned.

"You alright, mate?"

I tried not to turn my head. If I looked at them then they would see my face, and I wanted to remain unseen. Bloody Potter could hear my thoughts. Could he hear them right now? Did he know I was thinking of him? That I was sitting right next to him, thinking about how he is such an arrogant prat who can't mind his own bloody business?

I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me. Not turning around, I looked out of the corner of my eye. Potter was staring right at me.

"What are you looking at, Harry? Are you ok?" Granger asked, and turned to look where Potter's eyes lay.

Potter cleared his throat. "I can too mind my own business."

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A/N- So there it is. Any feedback appreciated. And my other fics, Close to You and Eventuality, they might not be updated for some time. So I appologize, and hopefully I can return to them soon. 


	2. Confronting Mr Adverse

Adverse Alliance - Chapter Two - Confronting Mr. Adverse

I had found out a lot that day. Potter could hear my thoughts. Read my mind. But not at will, it seemed only to happen at certain times, but I hadn't figured out the pattern. This could be dangerous… What if Potter could hear me right now? Thinking all of this? I felt so violated, like an open book, no longer having any privacy whatsoever.

I blew out my candle, a ritual happening every night now. Bloody Potter. My head hurt, and I was angry. Everything in my life had seemed to come crashing down altogether, and there was nothing I could do about it but lay in this bed and brood.

I spent the last day of summer break locked up in my room. I desperately had to figure out all meaning behind the Potter situation. There were several things I noticed when I sat next to Potter the day before. He said he heard my thoughts back at that Muggles' house, when he was angry. That had to have been about a month ago. And when he heard my thoughts there, at those tables, he was angry. I saw a pattern forming.

I began to pace the room nervously. The sun was fading behind the Muggle buildings outside my window, but I paid no attention. Anger. Was that the spark? Did we have to be angry for a connection to be made? I was angry that night when Potter heard me. I was angry yesterday when Potter tapped into my mind again. Was that it? Anger was the answer to it all? I sat on the bed, head in my hands.

But another thought came to me. Why can I not hear Potter's thoughts? Is this only a one-way street? There were so many questions churning in my mind. The room seemed to close in on me, and I suddenly felt the need to get out. I opened the door and ran down the hallway, but stopped. Where would I go? I sunk down to the floor outside a miscellaneous room, head in my hands again, and thought. And thought until my head felt like it was going to split into a hundred tiny pieces. Nothing helped.

Suddenly the door I had sunk down next to opened and light flooded the hallway. Grudgingly I looked up; the biggest mistake of my life.

"Malfoy." I should have left. I should have run. But I didn't, I just sat there dumbly as Harry Potter stared at me from his doorway.

Looking left and right down the hallway, Potter miraculously came out and shut his door, engulfing the hall in darkness again. He slumped against the wall opposite me and said nothing.

"Why?" I managed to say eventually.

Potter's green eyes caught the small light from a lamp outside and shone bright in the darkness. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"I didn't mean to end up here. I'm not stalking you," I mumbled.

"I knew it was you yesterday," he said. "I didn't ask for this. I don't like having someone else's thoughts in my head. It's scary, I can't control it, I suddenly hear what you think and I have no way of turning it off."

"I can't."

"You can't what?"

"I can't hear yours. Why?" I kept asking why, and the why's never got answered.

"I don't know." We sat in silence in the darkness, only the sound of the train rumbling past breaking it.

"What happened with Lucius?" Potter asked. I looked up at him, hatred filling my eyes.

"How dare you ask me that? How dare you! That is between me and my father, business that is not yours!" I realized I had stood up now, and Potter followed suit.

"You don't think I understand, do you? Oh poor Potter, he has no father so he wouldn't be able to get what I'm feeling. Well I do! I do, and I hate it! I hate being able to hear your bloody thoughts because it gets me bloody angry and then-" Potter suddenly stopped. I did too. I felt like my mind had suddenly emptied, a strange feeling washed over me. Then I heard it.

Bloody Malfoy, always thinking of his bloody self…

I gave Potter a strange look.

I do not. I unconsciously thought those words, and they seemed to have some effect on Potter.

"Yes you do," Potter spoke. I was shaking, and I slumped to the floor again. Potter followed.

"But how…?" I mumbled, wiping sweat from my forehead.

"I don't know. But it only happens when I'm angry. When we're angry. That's why I asked you about Lucius," Potter said, a slight triumphant look on his face.

"You bloody bastard," I said. He gave me a small grin, and I then realized what I was doing. Conversing with the enemy.

"I've got to go. I, er, have packing and, er, train, tomorrow…" I got up and started down the hallway.

"Malfoy."

I turned around.

"Not a word to anyone."

"Why would I want to tell anyone I have a bloody Gryffindor in my head? The thought makes me sick. Not something I would want to brag about," I turned on my heel and walked away.

I lay in my bed that night thinking. It occurred to me that I did a lot of that, and I should probably stop before Potter knows me inside and out. But one thing that bothered me was that I didn't know the reasoning behind everything. Why on earth would Potter be able to hear my thoughts, of all things, of all people? Who would I be able to talk to about this? I can't face my so-called friends, or my family, or anyone. There was always Snape, but he was in close ties with my father. I felt alone and angry. I wanted to Kadavra something.

Blowing out my candle for the last time, I closed my eyes and drifted off into another punctured sleep.

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A/N- Wow, I didn't expect good responses for this. I posted it on another site and most of the comments were that Draco was slightly out of character. Don't worry, he'll get back to his pmsish self in no time.


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